Last Chance Saloon - Marian Keyes [139]
JaneAnn went on and on about how expensive everything was and how immoral it was to charge those kinds of prices, and Katherine was hard put to humour her because her head was full of the enormity of having to go to work on Monday and face Joe Roth – oh, the shame! As JaneAnn wondered loudly how they could ask twenty-five pounds for a bread-knife when she knew for a fact that you could get a fine one in Tully’s Hardware, Main Street, Knockavoy for four pounds fifty, Katherine was facing into the nightmare of what if, once Joe had ‘thought about it’, he decided he didn’t want to go for a drink with her?
‘And if it goes blunt on you, Curly Tully will sharpen it again at no extra cost.’ JaneAnn got her attention once more. ‘I can’t see them doing that here, Katherine. I’ve a good mind to tell her,’ JaneAnn indicated a young girl on the pay desk, ‘and maybe she could mention it to her father.’
‘No, don’t,’ Katherine said wearily. ‘She only works here. I don’t think she’s actually part of the Harrods family.’
Timothy was keen to buy his wife Esther a present. ‘Keep JaneAnn talking,’ he muttered to Katherine, ‘and point me towards the linger-ee.’
Fifteen minutes later Timothy returned, trying to hide a bagful of red and black underwear that Esther would wear once to humour him, then pretend had been stolen.
They left Harrods and JaneAnn went to a street stall and purchased two ‘My mother went to London and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’ T-shirts, three ‘My mother-in-law went to London and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’ T-shirts and seven ‘My neighbour went to London and all I got was this lousy T-shirt’ T-shirts, bargaining the trader down from seven pounds fifty per shirt to sixty pounds for the twelve. Leaving him reeling and not at all sure that he hadn’t actually sold at a loss, they got a taxi to Sandro and Fintan’s flat.
To be greeted by a strange creature that had Fintan’s face, but waist-length blond hair.
On Sunday afternoon they went in convoy to Heathrow to put JaneAnn and Timothy on the plane home. JaneAnn had only agreed to leave Fintan behind because of the high quality of medical care he was getting.
There was a time when she would have scorned drugs and trusted solely in the power of prayer, especially when it was someone else’s relation who was sick. Countless times she’d stood on Main Street, Knockavoy mouthing sanctimoniously, ‘The doctors can only do so much, but the true healer is the power of prayer. The power of prayer can work miracles!’
Now it was a belt-and-braces-type scenario. She wanted to talk to Sandro about taking Fintan to Lourdes (or Knock, if funds didn’t run to France), but she was also keen that Fintan get every drug available. JaneAnn thanked Katherine effusively for having them. ‘I got you a little something.’ Discreetly she handed over a small, heavy bundle. ‘It’s a statue of the Child of Prague. Don’t worry if the head falls off. It’s good luck.’ She thrust her face into Katherine’s. ‘You’ll mind Fintan, won’t you? You’ll ring me regularly, won’t you? And we’ll see ye all at Christmas.’ She lunged even closer to Katherine. ‘And you’ll do your best to get off with the boy from your work?’ she urged. ‘Love makes the world go round, you know. Sure, look how happy Milo and Liv are together.’
‘I’m trying my best,’ Katherine muttered.
JaneAnn moved on to Tara, extracting a promise that Tara would guard Fintan with her life. ‘And you’ll tell your young man we’re sorry we didn’t get to meet him?’
Sharp, sudden rage stabbed Tara. She was deeply ashamed of Thomas’s rudeness. ‘He was very busy, you know.’
‘Sure I do, of course, and him a schoolmaster. It’s a highly responsible job. Well, maybe he’ll come home with you at Christmas? Unless,’ she added, mildly, ‘you do that thing that Fintan wants. I don’t suppose